The Brotherhood Page 9

  Charlotte shook her head, hands over her mouth, eyes staring, tearing up. She turned from her brother toward Sage who offered his open arms. I glared at the wereking, heart pounding, heavy with so many emotions I could barely tell what I was feeling.

  “You’ve endangered all paranormals with your selfish actions,” I said, jabbing a finger toward Iosif who cowered in the corner. He squeaked at the attention, jowls shaking as he tried to back up further against the immobile wall. “For a vampire that very well might have been destroyed by the Universe itself.” I didn’t know that, hoped it wasn’t true. Because that would mean Sebastian and his family were also gone. But I needed ammunition, to break the stubborn and hurting wereking out of his dark pit of despair. “Was enslaving your people and exposing all of us for a futile search worth it, Danilo?” I really, really wanted to hit him.

  “They will die for what they did.” Spit flew from the corner of the wereking’s mouth, splattering the front of my jacket as he lunged toward me. I stared him down while his muzzle grew, wet nose quivering within a hair’s breadth of my skin. His hot, panting breath washed over my face, sharp teeth clacking shut as he licked his heavy jowls with his thick, pink tongue. Madness shone in the wolf staring through his eyes and I wondered, then, if I’d missed something. If Danilo was more damaged than we’d thought by his years as a full wolf, trapped inside the furred form and without his humanity to guide him. He hadn’t heard a word I said.

  “No,” I said, softly and kindly, heart breaking for him and his family now, knowing what Femke would be forced to do. “You will, Danilo.”

  He snapped his teeth in my face. “You can’t report me if you’re dead.”

  I sighed heavily, the last of my compassion for him washing away as the three alter egos inside me rushed forward, ready to tear him apart. An empty threat, he must have known that. And told me his own claim to have called for Femke was a lie. If he’d turned me in for intruding on his territory, she’d be here by now. And he wouldn’t be tossing around his plan to murder me.

  “You’re really threatening me?” I wrapped him in the power of the maji, rainbow magic glistening, sparkling. Danilo licked his chops again.

  “You threatened first,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Just stating fact,” I said. “I really wish you hadn’t done this, Danilo. We had other options. If only you’d let me help you.”

  He backed away, then, shaking his wolf-like head, the beast retreating until he was just a man again.

  “If you’d saved her,” he said, gruff and full of blame. “But you didn’t.”

  “Neither did you.” No way I was taking the full brunt. He needed to accept this wasn’t anyone’s fault.

  Danilo’s shoulders twitched. “No one did,” he whispered.

  “And now your children will not only be motherless,” I said, “but fatherless if the WPC decides this is an offense punishable by death. Surely you knew that.”

  He didn’t respond. Not to me. Instead, he turned on his sister. “Sharlotta Moreau,” he said, “I hereby banish you from the werenation and forbid you or the mongrel you mated with from encroaching on my territory.” His voice sounded calm, almost level. What the hell was Danilo thinking? He’d truly gone mad. “For as long as I’m wereking, you are not welcome here.”

  Oh, dear, my vampire sighed, soft and sad. He’s protecting her.

  By pissing her off? I stuttered over the truth as Charlotte’s face crumpled. She reached for her brother but he turned his back on her and she let her hand drop.

  By sending her away, my vampire sent, and cutting her off from him he leaves her free to take the throne when Femke comes for him.

  Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

  Danilo looked up, a moment of sanity returning. “And you, Sydlynn Hayle,” he said. “Get out.”

  There was no further conversation to be had, clearly. He’d made his bed. I could talk to Femke on his behalf, maybe find a way to keep him from the noose or stake or however they decided to cut his life short. But Danilo was well aware, from the steady stare he gave me, his time was limited.

  And also told me he wasn’t giving up his throne without a fight. I wanted to beg him to release his people, at least, so they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. But he had work to do, I could see it in every line on his face, in the way his hands twitched at his sides. And he would not stop on his useless mission to find a vampire long gone until we made him stop.

  I could have, right then and there. But this was a job for the World Paranormal Council. As impulsive as I was, even I knew better than to just deal with this without giving Femke and her Council members a chance to handle it. As hard as it was, I turned my back on Danilo and went to hug Oleksander.

  Come with us, I sent to the old werewolf, knowing what he’d say before he answered.

  I cannot, he sent, mental voice aching with sadness. I must stand with him and protect our people, if I can.

  Why didn’t you come to me? Now my anger was aimed at him, suddenly. This was a train wreck.

  I am a werewolf, Oleksander sent as he held me at arm’s length and looked down into my eyes. He hadn’t changed since we’d met the first time, in a quiet house on the outskirts of the coven town, Yutsk. Except he seemed broken, at last.

  Sage left first and I followed, jerking Iosif along behind me. I waited for Charlotte who lingered one long moment, looking around at her family. Olena finally turned her back, hands over her face. As though that motion triggered her release, Charlotte spun on her black booted heel and marched past me, her face impassive.

  By the time we reached the front lawn of the werepalace, Charlotte’s empty expression had settled into icy calm.

  “He will destroy our people for his stupid revenge,” she said, crisp and precise, not a trace of accent in her voice. “He must be stopped.”

  Not wanting to think about the kind of damage this was doing to my friend’s soul, I pulled open the veil and stepped through, hoping Femke could find a way to make this all go away.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was a time I wouldn’t think twice about just popping into Femke’s office without even a toodly-do. We just had that kind of open relationship. But the last little while had left us strained and uncomfortable around each other, so I erred on the side of polite and sent her a gentle nudge to let her know Charlotte, Sage and I were on the way.

  She welcomed me instantly, though with a touch of distance that still made me sad. I wished there was a way to repair the damage we’d done to our friendship. And we might find one, yet. But neither of us, it seemed, were prepared to be the bigger person and let everything go. Until that happened, I feared we’d continue to have this awkwardness where once there’d been only support and confidence in each other.

  I still thought she was the best choice for the job as leader of the World Paranormal Council, no matter the cooling off between us. And though she’d poached my husband both from my mother and from me, I also admitted he was the perfect person to lead her Enforcers. Didn’t make things any softer between us, though.

  The veil parted before us in the hall outside Femke’s office. I let my gaze settle on the harbor below the towering office building, the mix of cruise ships and old Chinese junkets giving Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbor a flavor of new and modern mixed with culture as old as organized mankind. I loved this city, the vibrancy and busyness of it, though I rarely had time to explore. Maybe one of these days I’d bring the kids and we’d wander the markets, the streets among the bustling and hurried people who lived here.

  Right. Because my life allowed for relaxation and fun. Yup.

  The large, smoked glass door swept open, a slim young Asian woman in a prim, gray suit bowing to me. Xue’s slick, black bob barely moved as she gestured for me to enter the office past her tiny form, the faint scent of lotus so exotic I inhaled it and caught Charlotte’s nostrils flaring, too. She spun toward the cowering form of the Russian mafia man we’d somehow dragg
ed along with us despite the mess we’d left behind—yes, I admit, I forgot Iosif was even there. One jab of her finger in his face and a second at the floor and he nodded, rooted in the spot. I was quite certain if Charlotte never came back for him Iosif would remain there until he could no longer stand.

  Femke’s office ceilings soared overhead, a far cry from her old world paneled wood retreat at Oxford in London. This skyscraper was the epitome of ultramodern with ergonomic white furniture and a low, ebony desk stretching an impossible width along the long end of the space. Femke rose from her matching black chair behind it, back lit by the skyscape behind her through the wall of tinted glass that did nothing to block out the rising sun. I shook my head at the time zone shift messing with my mind and went to greet her.

  I paused a half a step at the sight of Quaid rising from another chair, only then realizing he was there. Why hadn’t I felt him in the room? He was so rigidly blocked from me, even the thread holding us together hummed in sympathy. My husband was getting good at hiding from his wife. And that made me nervous.

  My lips wanted to smile, but his face seemed grim, brows furrowed, those delicious chocolate eyes dark with something they’d been discussing so I chose to go for professional. I nodded to him instead, though I did go to his side and gently squeeze his hand before greeting Femke who circled her desk to offer me a quick embrace.

  At least she thought we were back on hugging terms, as stiff as it felt. I’d take it.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said as Femke smiled at Sage and Charlotte in greeting. “Early morning for you two.”

  “Not at all.” The tall, stunning blonde Leader’s blue eyes seemed as troubled as my husband’s, but she was as gracious as ever, gesturing for us to sit. “Late at night for you.” Charlotte remained standing, though Sage, ever practical, sank into one of the white chairs. I waved Quaid down into his own seat, spinning to pace a little, my favorite pastime when I was troubled.

  “This can’t be good.” There was no humor in Femke’s voice as she sat on the edge of her desk, her deep blue pencil skirt hugging her slim knees, long hands folding over her arms when she crossed them on the soft silk of her white blouse.

  “When do I ever bring good to you?” I meant that as a joke, but choked on it. Because it was true, damn it. Femke’s full lips parted, a protest, maybe? But I shook my head at her and sighed.

  “I think this is Charlotte’s story to tell.” Quaid arched an eyebrow at me as my werefriend grimly launched into her stoic telling of what her brother had done. Amazing how collected she managed to be, honestly. I’d have been throwing things and yelling if it was my sibling who screwed over my entire race.

  Thank goodness my sister, Meira, had her priorities straight and her own people to manage.

  Femke didn’t comment until Charlotte finished her few, succinct sentences. The sadness on her face tightened into resolve as her hands dropped to her sides, bracing on the top of her desk as she spoke.

  “Charlotte,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” Simple, clean. But authentic, touching. Piercing, really. Reassuring me yet again Femke was the perfect leader to protect us all.

  My werefriend’s lower lip trembled ever so slightly, enough to tell me Femke got to her. But when Charlotte spoke again, her voice was steel. “I need your help,” she said. “We must save the werenation.”

  Femke nodded, jaw jumping before she offered a small, sad smile. “You know what I’m going to ask you,” she said.

  Charlotte’s head jerked from side to side. “Don’t do it, Femke.”

  My heart crushed slowly in my chest as the WPC Leader stood and crossed to my werefriend. Both hands settled on the blonde werewolf’s shoulders, the slightly taller Femke looking down with her icy blue eyes into Charlotte’s own deeper shade. The rest of us might as well have not been in the room, a soft cocoon of emotion wrapping up the pair and keeping them bound to each other, early morning sunbeams shining on them like a spotlight. I held my breath as Femke sadly spoke.

  “Charlotte Girard,” she said, “you have a second identity, one you hoped to avoid. But you are also Princess Sharlotta Moreau. The World Paranormal Council would ask you to step up and do your duty. To take the throne of the werenation and save your people.”

  Irrational, this sudden burst of hate for Femke. It wasn’t her fault and I certainly wasn’t expecting to feel so passionately about the issue. Charlotte was a grown werewoman, after all. She made her own choices and didn’t need me to protect her. But the girl in me that still railed against being bullied, being told what to do, being pushed into a corner despised Femke for hurting my dear, dear friend and forcing her to make a choice about the people I knew she adored.

  Hypocrite. I’d been as big a bully to Femke.

  Charlotte remained rigid, unbending, and I knew her answer long before the burst of fury toward the WPC leader faded.

  “I decline,” she said in a voice that rang with conviction.

  Femke sighed, dropped her hands, but didn’t frown. She just offered that same, sad smile. “You have another plan, then? Because, I will tell you, for his actions Danilo must be held accountable to the WPC. He’s put not only the werenation at risk, Charlotte, but every single paranormal race. And our mandate is to protect those races, especially from normals.” Charlotte nodded, though she seemed suddenly unsure.

  “I can’t.” Her strength seemed to run out of her, desperation surfacing, horrible fear. I unconsciously reached for her, but her wolf blocked me. Sage surged to his feet as Charlotte spun and ran from the room. He waved me off and followed his mate, leaving a heavy, horrible silence behind.

  “You had to ask.” Quaid’s deep voice finally broke the quiet. I wanted to snap at him, to shut him up. But he was right and my reaction was as irrational as my fury toward Femke.

  “I suppose.” Femke’s eyes met mine. “Though I’m sure there are those who would disagree.”

  Gulp. Did she feel my anger toward her in that instant of rage? I truly hoped not.

  “Charlotte understands the stakes,” I said. “She’ll either change her mind or come up with an alternative. I trust her.”

  Femke nodded. “As do I,” she said. She turned to Quaid who stared at me like he didn’t believe a word I said. I refused to meet his eyes as she addressed him. “We must act, and as quickly as possible, if carefully.” She rubbed at her eyes with stiff fingers, shoulders sagging, though only for a moment. She had to be carrying a ton of weight with her and my heart went out to her with empathy, dispelling the last of my temper. Like me, Femke could only do her best with what she had. “Please begin preparing our forces and contact the territory and race leaders.”

  Quaid nodded and left, brushing past me with the barest touch to my hand. A gesture of warmth or a mistake? I had no idea and I was suddenly too tired to care. I sank into a chair beside Femke as she did the same, one foot bobbing in a shining black high heel over her crossed knee.

  “We can never seem to catch a break or our breath, can we?” She stared out the glass over the waking city, though from the pensive look on her face she wasn’t seeing a thing.

  “Breathing is for wussies,” I said.

  Femke laughed, though it really wasn’t that funny, a deep, throaty sound. Her eyes sparkled with it as she turned to smile at me, the first genuine smile I’d seen on her face in a long time. When her hand lifted and reached for mine, I took it, squeezed her fingers with a lump in my throat.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Me, too,” she said.

  Was that really all it took? Felt like it. The bubble of tension between us burst, our power connecting, stronger than ever. The healing we’d begun on the steps of the werepalace not even a week ago finally completed, leaving not even a scar behind.

  Amazing what genuine regret could do between true friends.

  Femke kept her grip on me as she spoke. “Damn him, Syd.” My mind drifted to Quaid on impulse before realizing she wasn’t talking about my husband. Oka
y, so I still had issues to work out with a certain stubborn ass. Me. Femke’s manicured nails bit into my skin just a little as her grip tightened. “He’s forcing us to take him out. He knows this is the only result to his actions. The whole thing is bollocks.” I loved her English accent melded with Scandinavian flair. Her pale, blonde hair shimmered as she shook her head, ivory skin white against the spots of pink anger on her high cheekbones. “This is a massive step, a huge test for such a young organization.” The WPC was barely months old. “Acting against a sovereign ruler of a paranormal race could make or break this Council.”

  “But what other choice is there?” We couldn’t just let Danilo continue to instigate a war with the vampires while informing normals about other races. Especially normals as hungry for power as the Russian mafia. Not to mention lacking in anything resembling morals.

  “I had no idea he’d gone so far.” She sat forward, both feet landing on the floor, hand slipping free from mine as she clenched them, elbows resting on her knees. The light coming through the tinted glass made her pale eyes transparent.

  “You’ve been watching him.” Of course she had.

  “Maksym.” Charlotte’s friend was paired with Isabelle Wilhelm, a vampire sympathizer.

  “You realize Danilo would have cut Maks out of the know.” I didn’t have to tell her that, chewing my lower lip against my harsh words.

  Femke shrugged. “I figured he’d at least be able to give me some advanced warning. But I should have known better. He’s been lost since Isabelle disappeared with the rest of her blood clan.” Damn it, of course. I forgot she would have been part of the mass exodus to who knew where of the Wilhelms. In fact, I was sure the only reason Sunny and Uncle Frank were still with us was the fact the Empress severed their ties to the Wilhelm family.